


Cutthroat Challenge: Just Desserts

by StarryNighty



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Black Reader, Black female reader - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty
Summary: For SherryBaby on tumblr: Cutthroat Challenge.Prompt: Netflix and ChillSabotages: You have to work in Bucky howling like a wolf.  No sentence can be longer than fifteen words.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Female reader, Bucky Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76
Collections: Explicit Stories





	Cutthroat Challenge: Just Desserts

The fire roared, dry wood crackled breaking apart. It sent sparks into the smoky air drifting around the shallow pit. Bucky stepped up next to it, long silver flask in one hand. In the other a log which he tossed into the amber fire licking the air. He stumbled back with the gray smoke billowing in his face. He tipped back the flask, full of Asgardian whiskey and sprinkled his mouth with it.

Steve shoved into him, drunk. Well, as drunk as Steve could be. He grabbed for the flask, sloshing a bit down the side of Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky gave up and let Steve have it. Dark eyes stared over the fire with a hiccup. You were there, smiling with the glow of liquor and the warmth of the flames.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint decided on a casual night out. But the four of them, tired of crowds settled on the woods instead. You tagged along. The compound could be so quiet without them. And you really didn’t want to be left with your own thoughts. So when Bucky urged you to come, you didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation.

At first you felt out of place. You worked accounting, administration mostly, and bumped into them often enough. But really you out in the woods with heroes, seemed out of your element. The trip there quickly changed your mind. You settled in around them. Each with their big personalities brought out yours. Sort of.

And after dinner all of them sat outside trading stories. You joined, flopped down in the big comfy wooden chair and curled up. Whiskey in your hands. Your eyes shifting and rocking from Steve to Sam, occasionally to Clint. But mostly, you caught yourself staring at Bucky.

Dark hair cut short, patchy beard. His eyes would glimmer in the flames. His short bursts of laughter would leave you smirking. The whiskey spread leaving you light headed and free, somewhat. So you indulged in observing your friend.

Suddenly Clint stood, swayed too, and tilted his head back to the full moon. Bucky’s eyes danced with silly uncertainty, his cheek bones scrunched into a wince. Clint billowed a long howl into the heavy night air. Sam, catching what Clint was doing started to bark. Still Bucky sat there as Steve too stood, put his hands on his hips and howled.

The guys descended into chuckles, sporadic yelps and growls. And you chugged the last of your drink as you giggled into the empty tumbler. After a few seconds of continued howls and barking you went back into the cabin. You were passed buzzed, drunk but you made another drink. The thought of going back out there sloppy wasn’t your idea of fun.

You slightly staggered into your darkened room. The small room moved around you ever so slightly as you headed to the bed. You sat the cup down on the end table. You bounced and jiggled while you peeled down to your shirt and panties. You dug out the laptop, tossed it at the head of the bed. And soon you followed.

Belly first, your feet hanging off the edge. Your shirt riding up passed the band of your underwear. You pulled at the laptop, put it on a pillow. Flipped it open and put on Netflix. An often repeated favorite was already there: Zumbo’s Just Desserts.

Your drink forgotten in the haze of influence you watched the competition unfold. You were enthralled in the making of gateau. And the sound of boots on a wooden floor never crossed your ears.

A giant flop later your laptop slid off the pillow. You scrambled for it. And your eyes swirled from light to the dark of the room. Looking over your shoulder, there was a large mass behind you.

It didn’t move. You lifted the laptop shining light upon the figure. Dark hair stuck out the top of his jacket ballooned around him. He moaned turned his head to the light and grinned. Bucky.

Suddenly he sat back on his knees. Foolery, lightness of spirit, whatever it was he stared at you. His eyes crinkled as he yanked his jacket off.

He howled, piercingly, it rang in your ears at its loudest.

You flinched and nearly dropped your laptop. So you rolled onto your back pulling it with you.

“Bucky!” you called and then giggled.

He was silent, still eying you, still grinning playfully. He tossed the jacket, the wind was a quick reminder of your bare legs. Haphazardly you tugged at the hem of your shirt, moved the laptop lower. But Bucky grabbed the laptop while he leaned back unlacing his boots.

“Food?” he asked sluggishly. “I liked that one flick about the inn.”

Your mind muddled to figure out what movie he was talking about. He came back down, kicking off his boots one at a time with a toe.

“The one with the city girl, goes to New Zealand,” he said. Coming closer, with laptop in hand, he crossed over your shoulders. You rolled to your side as he sat it back on the pillow. “Meets a guy, he helps her rebuild this inn.”

Your heart started to race. “A rom-com?” you asked breathlessly.

You tried not to pay attention to just how close he was. But the heat from his body surrounded you. His breath stinging with whiskey filled your nose.

“Ya, it’s good.” He chuckled softly.

His hand dropped around your waist pulling you in nearer to him. It felt like an act he had thought of for months. You sank back into him, disbelieving Bucky Barnes was cuddling your body. Propped up on his elbow, he dipped his head into your hair.

“I thought it was sweet, warming. Like you,” he whispered.

You shut your eyes tight. You fought the swimming in your head. Twitching, your hand glided from the comforter to his metal arm firmly wrapped around you.

Bucky’s breath hitched and then released it near your ear. His prickly beard scratched across your jaw. His arm unfolded underneath your head as you fell back into it.

You were face to face. Pale digital light casted shadows across his face. But blurry eyed as you were there was still gentleness in his gaze.

“Did you hear?” he asked.

You simply shrugged not knowing what he was talking about.

A smirk curled in the corner of his mouth. “I said you’re sweet.” he repeated.

Somewhere in your drunken stupor you missed the motion. The slow descending dip of his head towards your face, the seriousness in his eyes. He kissed you.

Your eyes widened and then fluttered shut. He covered you. Heat and his heavy body began to spill to your legs, your hip. His metal fingers steadily worked their way up between the bed and your ribcage. The nook of his other arm cradled your head. Soon desserts were the last thing on your mind. 

The knot in your stomach loosened but the muscles in your thighs tightened. Bucky’s lips slipped from your mouth trailing kisses and sucks down your neck. He was on top of you. Grinding his want into your pelvis. His knees wedged in and then spread your taut legs a part. He pressed his groin to yours.

He couldn’t get enough of your petal smooth skin. Nor could he ignore the light scent of smoke in your hair. Or the vanilla warming in his nose. You are beautiful to him. Squirming underneath, caught between softness and him. And he can tell you haven’t been touched in some time. You cling to him, your moans send tingles down his spine urging him to rub harder. He wanted to see how long you could last with just well intended touch.

He smiled into the skin of your breast. You were shaking all over. Legs trembled around his hips, clenching to close but struggling to stay open.

His jeans scraped across the skin of your thighs. He shifted a bit, rocked his hips, pressed in harder hitting your clit faster.

“Oh, my god. Bucky!” you panted.

Your hands fumbled to his shirt and balled your fingers into the collar. He wouldn’t let you pull him from nibbling your nipple.

“Feel good, baby?” he muttered against your skin.

You nodded your head feverishly and shut your eyes. Bucky barely pulled away from you he kept his hardness jutting across your clit. He brought his metal hand to your face. His other arm still cradling your head, he enveloped you close. His metal fingers sunk into your parted mouth. The act turned into your undoing.

Suckling two at a time you crumbled underneath him sending your body into jelly. His metal fingers slipped from your lips. And with a satisfied sigh, your fingers loosen and fell to your chest. Weakly your eyes opened, Bucky was watching you tuck your lips between your teeth. Slowly he met your eyes, grinning lightly as he spoke.

“You still wanna watch Netflix?” he asked.

Leisurely you shook your head no against his arm. Bucky smiled and reached over toward the laptop. He shut the lid as his lips pressed against yours.

In the dark, his cool metal arm reached between your legs fiddling with your panties.

“Wanna feel the sweet I have for you?” he mumbled into your mouth.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Well,” he said unzipping his jeans. “I’m gonna to make sure you get it.”


End file.
